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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29779029">Stremur (A Crack Fic)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JammyBLaya/pseuds/JammyBLaya'>JammyBLaya</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Flowers for Algernon - Daniel Keyes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Cursed, Denny's bathroom, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Harold They're Lesbians Meme, Hurt/Comfort, Joke Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Narcissism, Oh My God, Original Character(s), Science Fiction, Subtext, Therapy, They all need therapy, based on a book, i only added that tag because of ms kinnian and laura, its seven in the MORNING, mlm, tags will be applied</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:02:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,727</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29779029</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JammyBLaya/pseuds/JammyBLaya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on 'subtext' found in the novel Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes.</p><p>We were reading it in class and I was like "lol what if these two characters were dating"<br/>I wrote this in CLASS in a GOOGLE DOC.</p><p>I have a lot here. I know this isn't Dream SMP related but it's f i n e.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jayson Strauss/Harold Nemur</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I'm sorry for writing this</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>(Written from the perspective of Prof. Nemur)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>———————————————-</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Progress Report </b>
  <span>5-1-1965</span>
</p><p>
  <span>———————</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           Of course, of all days, I am required to write a progress report. Oh well. The scientific community will soon see the mind of a genius at work. I must write these reports to show progress on </span>
  <em>
    <span>Subject Algernon. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The committee will understand my lack of enjoyment for these reports; they take time out of my research to write. The issue with today, however, is not me. It’s that Jayson Strauss, the neurosurgeon they assigned to the laboratory.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>      Doctor Strauss is the epitome of annoyance. Although he is not required, he hovers over my research - this part doesn’t even concern him! I’d notified the committee of the most recent test subjects progress; and how </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>discovered the neurological advancement required for the operation. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yet they praise </span>
  </em>
  <span>Strauss? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Instead of ME? </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s not even his project! Though, he did do a satisfactory job on the operation, especially on a small scale, that gives him no excuse to take </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>spotlight! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>_________________</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       I finished my report, and slid it into the envelope to be sent to the committee. Walking down the college hallway from my office, I gave it to the receptionist (her name is Linda or something, I don’t pay attention) to mail out. In a hurry, I nearly ran to my office when-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ow! Watch where you’re going!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“P-Professor Nemur! I’m sorry, I didn’t notice-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     That </span>
  <em>
    <span>neurosurgeon </span>
  </em>
  <span>ran into me, scattering papers all over the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What </span>
  </em>
  <span>is your </span>
  <em>
    <span>problem?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>I questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing! I just needed to ask a question-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well you have my attention now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    I looked down and realized I was still on the floor with him. I quickly scrambled into the proper upright position and watched him do the same.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Strauss adjusted his labcoat, and looked up at me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to ask who we decided to use as our test subject? You’ve taken </span>
  <em>
    <span>forever </span>
  </em>
  <span>to-“</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I</span>
  <em>
    <span>-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Taken forever to </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?</span>
  </em>
  <span> May I remind you that I’m the one paying </span>
  <em>
    <span>you? </span>
  </em>
  <span> You’ll know when I tell you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a simple question.” He crossed his arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    Dr. Strauss shot me a glare, picked up his papers, and ran down the hall. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was he sniffling? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sucks to be him I guess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...Although I would, hypothetically, feel bad if I did make him cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>__________________________</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>May 6th</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>             I haven’t seen Dr. Strauss in nearly a week. Did I upset him that much? No matter. My wife has taken up the majority of my willpower lately. Like Strauss, she has been asking when we will move onto a human test subject. Maybe that is why I was so angry at him. I should apologize. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>          “Dr. Strauss?” I knocked on his office door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Professor Nemur.” I hear footsteps coming toward the door. The door opens, and there he is, looking up at me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s short. A lot shorter than I thought. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you need something?” He asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- wanted to apologize. For snapping at you, I mean. Even if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>ask a useless question.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not very good at this ‘apologizing’ thing, are ya, Harold?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Professor Nemur.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I don’t remember us being on a first-name basis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Well in that case, I’m Jayson!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He holds out his hand to me. I don’t shake it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll just call you ‘Dr. Strauss.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>       He shrugs. I wave goodbye, and he closes the door. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Argument</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mini-Chapter with arguing</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>__________________________</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Progress Report 5-14-1965</b>
</p><p>
  <b>——————</b>
</p><p>
  <span>        Miss Alice Kinnian has officially selected a subject for my research. Soon, after some official testing, Strauss will perform the operation, as he has done on that mouse Burt named Algernon. I personally don’t believe he should have named the subject. It will only lead to attachment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The newest volunteer is Charles Gordon, a student in Ms. Kinnians night class for individuals with a lower sense of intelligence. When I first met him, he was a nice person. He was invigorated with the idea that he would become “smarter.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>      This is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>huge </span>
  </em>
  <span>accomplishment. Even that doctor hasn’t bothered me all day. The lab is bustling with energy, something I haven’t seen in a long time. After some neurological testing, courtesy of Dr. Burt, it has been determined that Charlie Gordon’s IQ is around the 50 mark; this, with the help of the mouses’ progress, will nearly triple. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>        Jayson came practically sprinting down the hall, followed by Ms. Kinnian. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“NemuR hEY! NeemUUr!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, you’re loud.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ms. Kinnian was scrawling on a sheet of paper, while explaining, “Charlie is going to be used for the experiment. He’s very excited to meet you, Professor!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well..alright. Let’s go meet him then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As we started walking, Dr. Strauss put a hand on my shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>him Professor. He’s eager to learn!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I shrugged his hand off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s for </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>to decide if I’ll ‘love’ him or not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>______________________</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         As we entered Burt’s testing and analysis lab, there, our future experiment was sitting. Dr. Strauss held out his hand to him; Charlie shook it enthusiastically. I did the same. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Charlie. I’m Professor Nemur. I’m head of the research department here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie Gordon looked up at me with bright eyes,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you a doctor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not quite; but I will be helping you here. Jayson Strauss here, however, is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I gave him a nudge with my elbow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be performing the operation necessary to increase your IQ.” He added, half-glancing at me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Operation? ‘Eye-Que’ ”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Strauss gently explained to him, “An operation is like a surgery, and IQ measures your ability to learn-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, that’s not right,” I interject. “IQ measures how much you </span>
  <em>
    <span>have learned</span>
  </em>
  <span>-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Professor, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m trying to explain it to him simply.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this point, Ms Kinnian has left the room with Charlie. The door is left cracked open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I continued, “I get that, but what we said are two completely different things. If you expect him to learn, teach him the right things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Well </span>
  </em>
  <span>Mr. ‘Professor-Man,’ it’s all a matter of opinion. Our research shows-“</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Wait.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Our </span>
  </em>
  <span>research, Strauss? You mean the research </span>
  <em>
    <span>I curated</span>
  </em>
  <span>,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I took a step closer to him, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span> got the funding for-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Closer-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>interjected in?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We’re practically against each other now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“..back off of me, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I move myself  away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look just- just let me do my work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As I was leaving, I saw Charlie hurriedly rushing down the hallway. He turned, waved, and continued on his way.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Did he hear us arguing? </span>
  </em>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. At the Denny's</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>TENSION AT DENNY'S IS REAL</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>       I am writing this purely out of spite for a specific individual following our interaction during dinner. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>      Following our test subjects’ operation performed by Dr. Strauss, Alice suggested that the research facility patrons have a celebratory dinner at a diner downtown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Of course I was dragged into it, being head of research and all. However, that also meant that </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jayson </span>
  </em>
  <span>had to come as well. We were all sitting at a table in the dead center of the diner. And, by my horrible luck, Jayson had to sit next to me. We talked about meaningless things, ordered food, the usual chatter. That’s when Alice began a discussion, </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did the operation go, Jayson?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jayson looked up from his waffles, realizing someone was actually speaking to him directly. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>   “Oh! Completely fine. I think Harold took some notes, didn’t you?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Of course I did. After all, operating on a human subject is an impressive feat. This is only the first human test subject, anyways.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“The first? I thought Charlie was the only one we would have for a while. I mean, the data could be severely flawed-”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>I tilted my head, “Are you questioning my research again? How many times do I have to tell you? I know what I’m doing! If I could, I’d do the operation myself!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alice interjected herself back into the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You two, please! You’re both fighting like an old married couple.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Both of us looked at eachother, then back to her.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyways, this isn’t even about you!” She said, turning to me. “This project was funded by the committee for people with below average intelligence! We’re helping them, remember?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>     We both looked back over to Jayson, who was holding back tears.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Alice reached over to console him, but he got up out of his chair and walked to the bathroom, sniffling. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>      Alice, embarrassed by the amount of people staring at us, shot me a look.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to stop being so </span>
  <em>
    <span>rude </span>
  </em>
  <span>to him! He’s here to help you, Professor!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I don’t need his help, I know what I’m doing.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“At least go check on him. He’s in the bathrooms, I think.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>         I adjusted my coat and walked to the back of the restaurant, ignoring the gazes of the people who witnessed us arguing. Inside the bathroom, Jayson was splashing water on his face; he looked up at me with an expression that seemed to be a mixture of concern and anger. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---------------------------</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Bathroom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>perspective shift lol</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>(Written from the perspective of Jayson Strauss)</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <span>    “...Why are you so mean to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Professor Nemur was leaning against the bathroom door, staring at me with his hands in his pockets. “I came here to apologize. Again, I mean.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>     I glared at him. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Again?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Last time you apologized to me, you didn’t mean it, did you?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The last time he apologized to me, he had me up against a wall as well…</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>     “I did mean it! I just get carried away. You know how much this research means to me, Doctor Strauss.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  <br/></span>
  <span>      “</span>
  <span>You can call me Jayson, you know.” I wiped my eyes on one of those brown paper towels. I hadn’t realized I’d been crying like a little kid. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He paused, tilting his head to the side like he usually does when he’s trying to assess a situation. “Fine, then, I’m sorry, Jayson.” Harold crossed his arms. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “That’s the thing! You’re constantly berating me for ‘interfering with your work,’ and when you say sorry, you just keep doing it! It’s like you’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>narcissist.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Harold walked over to the sink and leaned against it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Well, you’re the one who caused a scene in a Denny’s and ran off to the bathroom to cry about it!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Yeah, because of you!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>  Here we go again, arguing! God, I can’t believe this guy has a </span>
  <em>
    <span>wife,</span>
  </em>
  <span> let alone his current position at the lab. I mean, if I were her, I wouldn’t put up with him!</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   I shoved him lightly, mainly because I have no body strength whatsoever. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He grabbed my wrists as I was moving, and stared into my eyes.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His are a nice brown color…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Stra-</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jayson,</span>
  </em>
  <span> let’s head back to the table. Alice has been waiting.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He turned and left me by the sink for a moment, dumbfounded. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>I looked at myself in the mirror and realized my face was a little pink.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I must have gotten overheated while crying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>I exited the bathroom and made my way back to our table. There were only a few people left, besides us. I took my spot next to Harold, trying not to make eye contact.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, that was embarrassing.</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>--------------------------<br/></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Denny’s restaurants are a curse from God himself to smite me into believing in him, aren’t they?<br/><br/>Ever since that night, when that jerk Professor made me cry, again-<br/>I can’t stop thinking about him. <br/><br/>I..think this started when he apologized to me the first time.<br/>Harold has a wife, as he should, I’ve known that for a while. He’s married! So why do I feel this way? <br/></span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s also a man. So there’s that. <br/></span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Clumsy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I HATE MYSELF /hj</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span>(From the perspective of Harold Nemur)</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>It has been about a month since Mr. Gordon’s surgery. Ms. Kinnian has resumed her teachings as normal, but has been giving him private lessons at the laboratory. </span></p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>So far, Jayson has been helping Charles with his new life. For example, he showed him how to turn down his radio. I envy the patience that man has. Lately, to help with Mr. Gordon's subsequent memory loss, Dr. Strauss has become his therapist. Today, while I was writing one of my reports, Dr. Strauss came in with a stack of papers.</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Hey, Harold! I have some of Charlie’s progress reports from Alice. I figured you should read them.” He walked around the side of my desk, and pulled up a chair next to mine. </span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>I glanced over it, noticing the small grammar errors, but overall improvement. My work has been paying off. </span><span><br/>
</span><span>“He’s spelling better! I believe your treatment is working.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“</span><em><span>My </span></em><span>treatment? I thought it was </span><em><span>‘your research</span></em><span>,’ Professor Nemur!” He grinned.</span><span><br/>
</span><span>I couldn’t help it, but I laughed. “Oh, hush, Jayson! I did most of the work, anyway.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>Jayson spun around in his chair, “You admit it! It’s our work! Hahaha! wHauGH-”</span><span><br/>
</span><span>He fell off his chair.</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Jay, oh my gOd- for a neurosurgeon, you’re clumsy as </span><em><span>Hell-</span></em><span>” I got off my chair to help him up. He dusted off his labcoat while his blue eyes wandered across the room. </span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Sorry about that, I uh-”</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’ll give you the Progress Analysis Reports tomorrow.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span>He waved goodbye as I set his knocked-over chair back up.</span><span><br/>
</span><em><span>That clutz. </span></em><em><span><br/>
</span></em><em><span><br/>
</span></em><b>__________________</b><b><br/>
</b></p><p> </p><p>
  <b>6. Never Drinking Again</b>
</p><p> </p><p><span>This is the hangover to end all hangovers.</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>Let’s start with what I remember. </span><span><br/>
</span> <span>The most recent thing I recall is Bertha, my </span><em><span>dearest </span></em><span>wife, rolling her eyes and going off to bed while I slept on the couch. After I woke up, however, I had a horrible headache, and I still do; I decided to go into work anyways. Of course, that was the worst. Possible. Mistake. </span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>Following my usual routine, I made my rounds across the lab. I heard that Alice wasn’t here today - she must have been hungover as well. Did all of us really drink that much? I was going to say something to Jayson, but he turned red, covered his face and hurriedly walked away. </span><span><br/>
</span><em><span>The Hell did I do?</span></em><em><span><br/>
</span></em><em><span><br/>
</span></em> <span>As I sat in my office, I noticed a note on my desk. </span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><em><span>Hey, Harold, </span></em><em><span><br/>
</span></em><em><span>!!!</span></em><em><span><br/>
</span></em><em><span>-Jayson</span></em><em><span><br/>
</span></em><em><span><br/>
</span></em><span>...What does this even mean?</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>I marched myself over to Dr. Strauss’s office and opened his door.</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Jayson!” I waved his confusing note in my hand, “Can you explain this?”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>He had a surprised expression on his face.</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“THAT- THAT’S UH- that is the note- that I wrote to you-”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“It literally gives me no context about  </span><em><span>anything</span></em><span> whatsoever.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Well, remember how we went out drinking?”</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Barely. I remember going out, then Martha dragging me to the couch.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Ah, well- after some </span><em><span>heavy </span></em><span>drinking, you were uh- how do I explain this- you were very protective of me..? Jeeze, I don’t know- you put your aRm around my waisT-”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>IdiDWHAT-</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“AH-I see. Well, my apologies, Jay. That was a mistake- I was severely </span><em><span>intoxicated</span></em><span>-”</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Harold,” he was laughing, ”It’s fine! Heh, let’s forget this happened, alright? We’re just two friends, having fun.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Friends?”</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Yeah? Oh God, Harold, don’t start being a jerk again-”</span><span><br/>
</span><span>“Well, I was </span><em><span>going </span></em><span>to say we </span><em><span>are </span></em><span>friends. I’m going back to my office now.”</span><span><br/>
</span><span>I waved and left. We’re both going to pretend that this never happened. </span><span></span><br/>
<span></span><br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Growth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>TW: Yelling/argument</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>            Jayson’s recent therapy sessions with Mr. Gordon have been more promising. A concerning issue, however, is that his mental growth has the potential to surpass his emotional growth. Jayson worries that this will cause future problems. I, however, do not believe the same. My job here is to increase his intellect, not how he handles it. Of course, I wouldn’t tell Jay that. <br/><br/></span>
  <span>          <br/>As I finished up my work, I noticed Charles didn’t say hello to me as he usually did. I caught his arm as he walked past. <br/><br/>“Charlie? What’s gotten into you?”<br/><br/>“I’m tired of people making fun of me! I used to not know, but now I do, and I don’t like it!”<br/><br/>I tried to reassure him that no one was trying to tease him here. He was not having it.<br/><br/>“What about the inkblots? Last time, Burt told me there were pictures in the ink everyone could see and-”<br/><br/><br/>         He really began testing my patience here. “Charlie, I don’t think that’s what he said. He keeps recordings of all your tests to keep track of your progress. Need me to get the tapes? Because I will.”<br/><br/>       We continued to the psychiatric examination ward, where Burt  pulled the tape, and played it for him.  I was correct, obviously. He seems to be taking his frustrations out on everyone, including himself. I’ll have to bring this up to Jay.<br/><br/>     However, later in the evening, Jayson and I  got into an argument again.<br/><br/>----------------------------<br/>      “Jayson, we have to show the world my creation-”<br/>      “Your creation? Harold, Charlie is his own person! You never created him! It’s too early to show the committee anything, he’s barely made any progress-”<br/><br/>        I raised my voice, “I’ve already informed the committee that <em>we </em>will present our thesis paper at Chicago!”<br/>   Jayson sounded close to tears. “But you’re <em>wrong,</em> Harold! It’s been only six weeks, he’s still changing-”<br/><br/>“Jay, there's nothing to be afraid of.  We’ve succeeded. It’s all positive. <em>Nothing </em>can go wrong now.”<br/><br/>        He grew frustrated, and his tone changed in a way I’ve never heard it go; he was actually angry.<br/><br/>“You- you- ugh! This is too important- too important to <em>all </em>of us, mind you-, to bring this out to the public prematurely!  You’re taking all of this authority upon yourself without consulting us first.”<br/><br/>“You forget that this is my project.”<br/><br/><br/>       He stopped, and stared at me. Jay was crying, once again. <br/>“It’s not just your reputation that’s at stake. Everyone here- if we fail- we’ll come under fire too.”<br/><br/>“I’m not afraid of regression anymore. I’ve done my research, I know what I’m doing.” <br/><br/>       As I turned to leave, Jay shouted back, “You don’t have a <em>clue </em>what you’re doing! You just want to be on the committee, don’t you? Here I was, thinking we were actually friends, and it turns out you didn’t even care! Just- get out of my office, please!”<br/>Dr. Strauss rubbed his eyes, and marched back over to his desk.<br/><br/><br/>      I know I’ll succeed, with or without him.<br/><br/></span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Bittersweet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>From the Perspective of Jayson Strauss</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>            It’s been about a month since my argument with Harold. I feel horrible for starting an argument with him, even if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>deserve it. I’ll just get to that later. Charlie’s intelligence has raised significantly in the past 12 weeks! The downside is that until recently, he hadn’t been coming to the lab. Even Harold was worried about him. In some of Charlie’s recent reports, he’s been resenting him.<br/>
       Harold doesn’t think of him just as a ‘lab specimen,’ to quote him, exactly; he’s just..distant from him? Lately, Charlie’s writing even surpasses that of Professor Nemur. I’m sure </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>would take a much needed hit to his ego. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen much of him around, either.<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span>          I was going to knock on his door, when I heard him on the phone with Martha...<br/>
<br/>
        “..No, the committee will accept my thesis, I’m sure of it! Jay’s been a great help, you know, providing information and things-”<br/>
There’s a pause, then he continues, “Yes, yes, it’s still my project, but-- Bertha, please--...Fine. I'll see you when I get home. Unless you’re going out with your friends again…? I’ll see you this evening.”<br/>
<br/>
       After he hung up the phone, I waited for a moment before I opened his door. “Uh- Hey, Harold. I haven’t uh..seen you in a while! Ahah-”<br/>
<br/>
“I assume you’ve come in here to wait for me to apologize.”<br/>
<br/>
        I hadn’t realized this about him, but Harold looked so tired today. His hair was tousled; he looked so distressed. “Oh, I was coming to apologize to you this time- are you okay?” He gave me a confused look, almost as if he had never been asked that before. <br/>
<br/>
        “What? Ah, yes, just a little over-worked, Jay, I’m fine. Did you need something?”<br/>
<br/>
I put a chair next to him, and sat down; the same one I fell off of, hahah-<br/>
     “You can tell me, you know. I’m a licenced therapist! The Chicago Meeting is only in a few days, so I figured you’d be stressed, but not this much.. You should probably tell your wife about these things too, you know. “<br/>
<br/>
“Ahah, bold of you to assume she’d listen.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, flashing me a look that made my face turn <em>pink</em>- I hate it when he does that.<br/>
<br/>
“Well, if she won’t listen, I will.”<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“That’s really not necessary. You can go back to work now.”<br/>
<br/>
      He slumped over his desk. I put a reassuring hand on his back. “I don’t have much I need to do. I’ll just stay here, with you!”<br/>
Harold looked up at me. <br/>
<br/>
“...Jayson?”<br/>
“Yeah?”<br/>
<br/>
      That’s when he hugged me.<br/>
“You’re a good friend, you know?”<br/>
<br/>
   I sat there for a moment, mostly in shock. Harry stood up, adjusted his tie, and sighed.<br/>
“I’m going to head home for the night. Have to prepare for Chicago!”<br/>
<br/>
When he left, I was still in my chair. I think I’ve kind of uh- come to a conclusion...<br/>
<br/>
<em>I had a crush on Harold Nemur. </em><em><br/>
</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<span class="u"><strong>End of Part One</strong></span><br/>
</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Going to Chicago</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>sheeessshh part two slowburn 150k words</p><p>Written from the perspective of Harold Nemur</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>     <em> <b>“</b><span>When he left, I was still in my chair. I think I’ve kind of come to a conclusion-</span><span><br/></span><span>I have a crush on Harold Nemur.</span><b>”<br/><br/><br/>----------------------------------</b></em><br/></p><p>
  <span>         Today’s the day the  laboratory presents our subjects to the committee. I’ve been waiting for this ever since I presented my ideals to them. With Jay, Alice, Burt and his mouse, and Charlie on the plane, there’s a slight air of nervousness among all of us; especially me. I just wish Bertha could have seen us- she had family matters to attend to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Once we arrived in Chicago, we were supposed to leave our suitcases and such at the hotel the committee provided for us. Unfortunately, there was a mix up with the rooms.<br/><br/></span>
  <span>       Jayson’s extra room was never booked, so he had nowhere to sleep. “Alice and Charlie are staying in the same room, Burt and his wife are staying together, you have your own room- where will I sTaY? I guess I can go out and find a motel-“<br/><br/></span>
</p><p><span>“Just stay in my room. You can sleep on the couch or something.” We entered an elevator, carrying our luggage with us.<br/><br/></span>      <span>“I wouldn’t want to bother you, Harry. Are you sure I can stay with you?”</span><br/>     <br/><em><span>      “Harry? </span></em><span>That’s new. No one’s called me that since - I don’t know, college.”<br/><br/></span></p><p>
  <span>“Oh! I’m sorry, I won’t call you that-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I interrupted, “Call me what you want, Jay, I don’t care. It’s just a nickname, anyways.”<br/><br/>     </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jay nervously moved his hair out of his face, and stammered out a few words.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I- wh- yo- Ha- … </span>
  </em>
  <span>Okay! Harry it is!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       We finally reached our hotel room - <em>my</em></span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>hotel room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I began folding my clothes away into drawers, while Jayson carelessly tossed his clothes into a different one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     I left the room to go check on how Algernon was doing after the flight with Burt. After I came back, Jay was in the only bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>“What the hell, doctor?’ I asked jokingly.<br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finders keepers, professor! You should’ve knOwN i was gonna take it when you left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“MovE! It’s mY roOm!”<br/><br/></span>
  <span>While we were bantering, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that doctor dragged me into MY bed with him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeeze, we can both sleep here, you know, we’re FriEnds-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I rolled myself off, hitting my head on a bedside table on the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“oW- no- that’s wEiRd-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, he’s just laughing his ass off. <br/></span>
  <span>I just slept on the couch that night. <br/><br/>-----------------------<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today’s is the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The day I finally prove my worth to the committee; and my wife. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>        Today started off normal. Jayson tumbled himself out of the bed he claimed the night before and helped get the rest of the laboratory staff prepared for the meeting. <br/></span>
  <span>   It was time to present our research. The test subject, Charlie, asked to give his own speech. I was against the idea, but Burt thought it would be a great way to show his advancement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He began..talking down upon me, the lab, everyone -even Jay, the one who practically brought him into the world anew . Of course, I tried to shut it down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I attempted to snag the microphone,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—And that’s all we have time for today! Charles, give me the microphone-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       After a struggle, Charlie Gordon managed to get a hold of our display cages, and released our first subjects onto the rows of seats of the committee; including what I believe was Algernon, Burt and Jay’s favorite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jayson screamed, members of the audience scrambled up their seats, more chaos ensued. I looked around for Charlie, but he was already gone.<br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m about tired of this little project.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Where's the MOUSE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>MY ENG. TEACHER CAUGHT ME WRITING THIS HELP</p><p>TW: strong language</p><p>Written from the perspective of Jayson Strauss</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>      This was possibly the worst decision I’ve ever made! I was practically in tears, rushing off behind the stage, searching for that little white mouse. Most of the Committee had said their goodbyes, and left without even helping! God, I knew we should’ve waited! I don’t know what’s gotten into Charlie, but this was just uncalled for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  After looking for what felt like an hour, I sat on the edge of the stage, staring out at the mainly empty auditorium. Harry came by and sat next to me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jay, I’m sorry, we couldn’t find him anywhere - He could be anywhere in the city now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He put his arm around my shoulders. It was comforting…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This was a fucking disaster.”<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agreed! What are we gonna do now? Should we go see Charlie in his room?”</span>
</p><p><span>     “Even though I’m pissed off at him, I’m sure Alice has it taken care of.” He paused, standing up. “We still have a day left of Chicago. Why don’t we go out? We can head back to our room, change into actual clothes, not these </span><em><span>dress shirts</span></em><span>, and hit the town?” He's talking like a college student. <br/>
<br/>
</span><span>  I stood up too, “That’s a good idea, but what about Algernon?”<br/>
</span>       <br/>
     <span>“If anyone finds him, they’ll let us know. Come on.” </span></p><p>
  <span>       We left the auditorium and drove back to the hotel. <br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry left to the bathroom, and came out in some nice black jeans and a leather jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you packed that! Isn’t that the same jacket from Denny’s?”*</span><br/>
<br/>

</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, it’s my favorite one. Does it look good?” He smirked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He needs to stop doing that before I scReaM-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell yeah it looks good! I was just gonna wear khakis and a sweater. Like a single, tired dad.” I then went into the bathroom with my own clothes and changed. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>* yes denny's were around in the 60s. i did my research</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Hit the Town!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>cw: strong language</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Shit, uh- I can’t find my credit card- can you meet me downstairs?” I said to Harry, while rummaging through my suitcase.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure. I’ll be waiting, I guess.”<br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>     When he left the room, someone else came in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew it! You </span>
  <em>
    <span>like him!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Alice was in the doorway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“W-wHat- nO, not like- like in a romantic way, hahah, of course, we’re both guYs, sO-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Oh, don’t worry about it, Jayson. I don’t mind. I’m like that myself! I swing both ways!” She made a motion of her hand swinging back and forth. “I kind of knew you liked him since the night at the bar.”<br/><br/>     </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“OH </span>
  <em>
    <span>FUCK</span>
  </em>
  <span>- Alice, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please, please </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t say anything to him! He has a wife, and-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relax! Now, you go have fun on your date!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I found my card, and rushed out, yelling</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“IT’S </span>
  <em>
    <span>NOT </span>
  </em>
  <span>A </span>
  <em>
    <span>DATE!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>--------------------</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wish it was, ahah..</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           We began walking down the streets of Chicago. Even though it was only early Autumn, it was pretty cold. I shivered. Harold looked over at me. “Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>seriously </span>
  </em>
  <span>cold? It’s not even that bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>    “Yeah, well, I don’t have a jacket, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Harold.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”<br/></span>
  <span>“Just take mine.” He began taking his jacket off.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Oh, no, no, you don’t have to do that, aHa-“ By then, the jacket was already around my shoulders. “...Won’t you get cold?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever, I’ll be fine. I do need to call my wife though…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ugh. Bertha.</span>
</p><p>     <span>  Near a cafe, he found a pay phone. After talking with her for a few minutes, his face fell. Harry said goodbye, and slammed the phone against the machine, hanging up.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Jeeze, what was that about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, she just confirmed the suspicions I didn’t want to believe. I heard some other guy in the room with her.”<br/><br/>---------------</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So...that means..?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s been cheating on me, Jayson.” He ran a hand through his hair, and sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “Harold, I’m so sorry! I wish I could do something-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need to. It’s- ugh, I won’t say anything to her. I don’t care anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t say that! Why don’t we continue our trip? That should take your mind off of it, huh?” </span>
</p><p>       </p><p>
  <span>         He linked his arm with mine, oh my gOd-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. I’d rather spend my time with you, anyways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>This man is gonna be the end of me, I swear.<br/><br/></span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Consolation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>cw: strong language, (mentions of) alcoholism, cheating</p><p> </p><p>turns out my teacher read the entirety of the fic while writing it during class.</p><p>she didnt say anything until i finished the chapter</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written from the perspective of Harold Nemur</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        </p><p>
  <span>       I feel like absolute shit. It’s cold, my wife’s cheating, and everything is just a mess. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>      The thing I worked for </span>
  <em>
    <span>years </span>
  </em>
  <span>on is crashing down. Tomorrow, we fly back to the college. Martha had planned a cocktail party when we came back, so that’s just going to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>fantastic</span>
  </em>
  <span> knowing she’s sleeping with another guy. <br/><br/>      <br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>     At least I have Jay with me. Even though I am pretty cold,  I’m not going to admit it. He looks so comfortable in that jacket. I might just say ‘screw it’ and let him keep it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Harry! Why don’t we stop for a minute? We can find somewhere to sit down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nod in agreement. “Why not. It’s not like there’s anything important we need to do.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “...I am sorry, you know. Today’s been- well, it’s been stressful as </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Especially for you; You really need a break from everything.” He pulled my jacket closer to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>         “I need a </span>
  <em>
    <span>drink</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that’s what I need.” Even though I’m still not supposed to, alcohol is just what I need. Jayson shook his head. “It’s a little too early for that! Maybe coffee..” He scratched the back of his neck, as if he was nervous.<br/><br/>       </span>
</p><p>
  <span>  Jay managed to find another cafe not too far from the first one with the pay phone. As it slowly became evening, we were the last customers there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     We ordered drinks and sat at a dimly lit table outside, the table on a patio adorned with plants, facing the road. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though it was slowly becoming warmer, Jay was still holding that leather jacket close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it gets too warm, you don’t have to wear it.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I like wearing it. It’s comfy!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He mumbled something before sipping his coffee.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>          “What was that?” <br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>            “Hm? Nothing-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just tell me, It’s not that big of a deal-“</span>
</p><p><span>“Alright, maybe I like it so much because it’s yours, Harold.” <br/><br/></span>         </p><p>
  <span>“...Okay? A little weird, but that’s alright. I don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      Jay’s became flustered and he buried his face in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“UggHh- stop </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing </span>
  </em>
  <span>stuff like that!”<br/><br/>     </span>
  <span>“Stuff like what? I’m just siTTinG here.”<br/><br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re being so </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice </span>
  </em>
  <span>to me! And I thought you hated me until a few months ago!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I never hated you! I just lost my temper a few times; I do really like you, of course-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face became more red, and he looked as if he was about to cry. He’s shaking, </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the thing! You like me but-</span>
  <span>ugh!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I like you! And a Hell of a lot more than you like me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you saying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I’m in </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>with you, damn it!”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chicago Nights</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>tw: mentions of homophobia</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“...What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forget it! Let’s just go-“ He took off my leather jacket and tossed it on his chair. He then left the patio and began walking down the street.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>I called out after him and picked up my jacket. I had to jog to keep up with his speed walking. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>      “Jay- Hey slow down, I’m old-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re thirty!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Close enough- Look, you don’t have to storm off like that. I’m not upset with you at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>                <br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care. I’m upset with myself- I- I know I shouldn’t be feeling this way—about you, I mean. We’re both-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Guys?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, exactly. It’s- I’m not supposed to- we're both-“<br/><br/>     </span>
</p><p>
  <span>         I can tell he’s about to go into a panic. I put my hands on either of his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jayson, please calm down, it’s okay, really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! It’s not! You’re married to a </span>
  <em>
    <span>woman</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and no offense but a </span>
  <em>
    <span>BITCHY </span>
  </em>
  <span>one at that! I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to like women, but I just- I donT!” Jay’s crying again now.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to apologize to me! And yeah, she is pretty bitchy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       He laughed for a second, then continued sobbing. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And, I don’t know why I did this, but I just- did?<br/><br/>       </span>
  <span>I kissed him.<br/><br/>        At least he stopped crying. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jay wrapped his arms around me. I figured he would push me away after a few seconds but he didn’t, so I guess that’s good? I realized I should probably pull away to </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe</span>
  </em>
  <span>, so I did.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>     His face was pink, and he was breathing heavily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God...Damn…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feel better?” I asked him.<br/><br/>       </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Harold Nemur,” He tilted his head, “I feel fantastic! You have </span>
  <em>
    <span>no clue </span>
  </em>
  <span>how loNg I’ve wanted to do thaT- But I never expected you to do it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think I would either- uh- can we do it again?”<br/><br/>     </span>
</p><p>
  <span>        Jayson laughed, “Oh, so you </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked it, </span>
  </em>
  <span>huh Professor?”<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hush, of course I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We continued uh- pretty much making out on the streets of Chicago. We started walking down the street, hand in hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Jay looked up at me while we were walking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry? Are you..okay with this?”<br/><br/>         </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With..us. I- I know this is wrong of me to feel but- it feels right. With you. And me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>        “I don’t think it’s wrong. I mean, isn’t love just two people who feel connected to each other? Love isn’t defined by people, it’s defined by hearts. Sorry, if that sounds sappy to say.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s really sweet, Harold. I wish I was as comfortable with myself as you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m comfortable with </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Even if I do act like a jerk sometimes, you’re still my friend.” I draped my jacket over his shoulders again. <br/><br/>       "</span>
  <span>Heh, we should probably head back to the hotel now. It’s getting late.”<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>After hailing a taxi, we arrived back at the hotel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want the bed tonight?” Jay asked, coming out of the bathroom in his nightclothes. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>        “You can have it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I stole it yesterday, why don’t you have it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could both sleep there, maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“...Yeah, that works.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Cocktail Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>ohh yuh heated debate</p><p>cw: argument, swearing, drunkeness</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written from the Perspective of Jayson Strauss</p><p>she/they alice kinnian real</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>       Well, Chicago was nice! I’m not just saying that because I got to make out with a certain professor either. Anyways, after our little night in the city, the lab and Charlie, still upset over the presentation, we  traveled back to the college. There is some slight concern with the mental regression aspect of the operation.  Tonight, however, Harold’s wife is planning an event; a cocktail party, in honor of the men who gave Harry the funding for his experiment.<br/>    <br/>     I drove Alice and I to their house after work. She was wearing a pretty, coral colored dress, with pearls. I had a dress shirt on and a tie, mainly because I’m too lazy to go out and get actual dress clothes. <br/>    “Charlie is supposed to be here tonight. Apparently, he’s been doing some research of his own.” She said, adjusting their hair in the car mirror. “He found Algernon, by the way. Currently, he’s keeping him at his flat.” <br/><br/>“That’s fine, I guess, as long as he reports his findings to Harold. I think he’d like to know.” <br/><br/>“Speaking of Harold, how was he?” <br/>        “wHAt-” My voice cracked-”What do you meaN- wE neVer-”<br/>“I was- I was talking about after Algernon went missing. What did <em>you </em>think I was talking about, Jay?” She’s grinning. <br/><br/>      “I- yeah, that’s what I thought. Uh- hey, look! We’re here! <em>Let’s get out of the car now-”</em><em><br/></em>She’s laughing at me, oh God-<br/>        Anyways, we entered Harold and Bertha’s house. It’s quite nice! I personally wouldn’t mind living here. Mainly because Harry lives here. Speaking of him, he looks <em>damn fine </em>in a suit! I could see him from across the foyer, discussing something with a member of the committee. I was deciding if I should go over and join the conversation, when Bertha Nemur approached me. <br/> <br/>    “You must be Dr. Strauss. Harold’s told me a lot about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       So Harold talks about me at home? I had the strange thought about what would happen if I blurted out to her ‘Hello! I passionately kissed your husband in Illinois, then we slept in the same bed!’  I then decided that I should settle on something more sane as my reply,</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span><br/>“Yes! You’re his wife, correct? He talks about you as well.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>“All good things, I hope!”<br/>“Of course!”<br/><br/>     Obviously I’m not going to mention Harold and I know she was having an affair while he was away. Though, it would be interesting to see her reaction...<br/>“Oh! Excuse me, Doctor, one of the board members is here; see you around!” She trotted off across the foyer to go introduce herself to the board member. <br/><br/>      Finally, I could go talk to Harry; but, of course, Burt wanted to discuss the experiment with me. We talked about it for a few moments, when Charlie approached, holding a drink in his hand. We began talking, when I noticed he had been taking many of the martinis from the passing trays. <br/><br/>      “Ah- Charlie, do you think it’s wise of you to drink so much?”<br/>     <br/>“No, but I’m trying to relax and it seems I've come to the wrong place.”<br/>“Ah- well, take it easy.”<br/><br/>      I walked away, but then heard a commotion behind me; Charlie was definitely drunk. He had made a comment about someone’s <em>wife </em>of all people. Harold had paused his conversation and rushed up to the group that had gathered. <br/><br/>“Just who the <em>hell </em>do you think you are, thinking you can behave that way? God, I’ve never seen something so <em>rude</em> from you!”<br/>     Charlie stumbled, but managed to regain his balance to speak. “What makes you say thAt?”<br/>       I held Harold’s arm- I have never seen him this upset. He looked like he was about to lunge at Charlie, which would be a disaster. <br/>“You have nO understanding of this situation! You’re- you’re <em>indebted </em>to these people in more ways than one-”<br/><br/>“Since when is a guinea pig supposed to be <em>grateful</em>?” Charlie was shouting now. <br/>      A crowd had gathered, and I could hardly hold Harry back. Charlie continued, “I’ve been trying to work out your <em>stupid </em>mistakes, so how the hell does that make me indebted to you?”<br/>    <br/>        I moved in between the two, trying to break it up, but Harold continued on.<br/>“Oh, no no, I want to hear what he has to say.”<br/><br/>Bertha had been watching, and called out to him, “He’s had too much to drink, don’t you think?”<br/>“Pfft, not much. I want to hear his justification for this little outburst.”<br/>      “Forget it, you don’t want to hear the truth.”<br/>“But I do, Charles. At least, <em>your </em>version of the truth. Don’t you feel grateful for all the things- ALL of us here have done for you?”<br/><br/>       “In some ways, yes. I’ve learned a lot within the past few months; not only about me, but the people around me. I’ve discovered that no one actually <em>cared </em>about me, moron or genius, so what difference does it make, Professor Nemur?”<br/><br/>“Ohh,” Harold is nearly laughing, but I can tell it’s not from joy. He’s practically seething with rage. “You’re actually feeling <em>sorry </em>for yourself? This experiment was made to make you more intelligent, not popular. Someone as smart as you are now should’ve known that; God, we’ve done everything for <em>you, </em>Charles!”<br/><br/>“Except treat me like a person! You are nothing but a narcissist! Professor Nemur, I think when you see me, you feel sort of- how to phrase it; self-conscious, don’t you?”<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>(This chapter is long, pt two of this one next!)<br/></span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Cocktail Party pt. 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>same warnings as before</p><p>a short chapter</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I’ve heard enough. You’re drunk, and you’re cynical.”<br/><br/>        “That’s not completely true, Professor. One thing I’ve learned is that intelligence isn’t worth a damn.”<br/>He picked up another martini. I moved closer to him and put my hand on his shoulder. “Charlie, I recommend you take a break, and lie down for a while. You’ve had too much to drink.”<br/><br/>        He slurred, and stumbled off to the bathroom. I offered Charlie a taxi, but he said he’d rather walk home; I couldn’t really stop him. After that whole outburst, most of the party had dissipated. I found Harry, who still looked mildly angry, and began trying to console him.<br/><br/>“Harold, I’m sorry, he was just intoxicated- his unusual bursts of rage have been present in some of our therapy sessions-”<br/><br/><br/>“It doesn’t even <em>matter</em>, Jayson. I think recession is happening. He’s slowly getting more and more aggressive. This means that our research was for nothing.”<br/><br/>“Oh, Harold, don’t be like that! We can just make it better next time!”<br/><br/>          <br/>      “I don’t know if there will be a next time. I embarrassed myself in front of the entire committee, and I’m practically a fool compared to Charlie..I want to be left alone right now. Party's over.”<br/><br/>I quickly hugged him goodbye, much to his surprise, and left the house.<br/><br/>         As I was walking to the car where Alice was waiting, I heard the indistinguishable voice of Bertha Nemur absolutely screaming at Harry. He didn’t seem to be arguing back. It was something about ruining his own chances, with the committee, as if Charlie’s outburst was his fault.<br/><br/>She’s a toxic <em>bitch. </em>All she wants is his spotlight. I realize why he was so passionate about this project; it was to please her. <br/><br/><br/><br/><br/></span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. I Don't Deserve You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>yes i used wilbur soot lyrics, yall forget im a dsmp writer</p><p> </p><p>cw: alcoholism , swears</p><p>Written from the Perspective of Harold Nemur</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>the song from the title of this chapter and the next is Your Sister was Right by Wilbur Soot</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>      It’s over. Regression has begun. Algernon had died about a month ago, and Charlie has been losing memory again. I gathered up the empty bottles that had amassed in my office- I had managed to sneak them into the college. About  a billion thoughts were racing through my head,</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
<em> Where’s Jayson?<br/>
I miss him.<br/>
I don’t remember last night<br/>
Bertha’s cheating-<br/>
That damn experiment-<br/>
<br/>
</em>        I heard a knock on my door.<br/>
“Hey, Harold? It’s uh- It’s Jayson. Can we talk?” Before I could even answer, the door was open. “Hey, Harry!- It smells like alcohol- wait, have you been drinking?”         He closed the door behind him and rushed up to me. “It’s not that bad, Jayson. Most of these are from last night. I slept here.”<br/>
“You could’ve stayed with me!” he said.<br/>
<br/>
      “You had already left.” Jay had pulled up a chair next to me, “Look, Harold, I needed to talk to you; the uh- the committee has deemed our experiment as a failure. I’m sorry.”<br/>
<br/>
“I figured they did. It’s fine.”<br/>
<br/>
 “Th-Thats not all. I work for the committee, so I- I have to leave. For their next project. God, Harry, I’m sorry-”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hugged him. I didn’t want to let go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry, it’s okay- are- are you-?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>       “Crying? Yes, of course I am! I can’t- you can’t- </span>
  <span>you can’t leave me, Jayson! I’ve been waiting to feel something that wasn’t like shit, then you came along. I didn’t feel like a complete fucking failure anymore! God- damn it-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not a failure! Harry, ever since the Chicago trip, I’ve thought about you practically every day. I don’t want to leave, but it’s my job. You’d understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I do but- </span>
  <span>Jayson, I love you.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. You Deserve the World</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>same warnings as last chapter</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Final Chapter for part two</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>            <span>Jay pulled back from our embrace. </span><span>“I love you too, Harry.”<br/>
I buried my face in my hands. “I’m such a damn failure, Jay.”<br/>
<br/>
“No, you’re not.”<br/>
         “Yes, I am. I can’t even do a damn experiment without it failing miserably.  I can’t even have a<em> wife </em>without screwing that up too. Now you’re leaving me. We didn’t even get to-'' my voice faltered. I must be reaching the height of my panic. “Get to what? Harry?”<br/>
<br/>
          I slightly laughed, glancing up at him.<br/>
“Well, after all of this experiment was over, and the divorce was finalized, I wanted to travel. With you, I mean.”<br/>
<br/>
          He was silent for a moment.<br/>
<em>Then another.<br/>
<br/>
</em>He finally responded. “Then why don’t we, Harold?”<br/>
<br/>
          I looked up at him. For once, it was me crying instead of him. “What do you mean? Don’t you have to work with the-?”<br/>
“They’re…not the best people. But you are. You’re the best person to me. I don’t want to work for the committee when you’re not there with me, <em>professor.”  </em>Jay did that grin he does when he’s about to do something either unethical or otherwise messing with me.<br/>
<br/>
       <br/>
“...What are you trying to say?”<br/>
“I want to travel with you. Away from here.”<br/>
<br/>
“Are you sure?”<br/>
“Of course.”<br/>
<br/>
Jayson laughed, and put his hands on mine.<br/>
<br/>
“Where will we be? Ah- where will we end up, Harry?”<br/>
“Together.” <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</span><span><strong>End of Part Two.</strong><br/>
</span></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i promised my friends that when stremur was fully uploaded, i would begin work on part three. </p><p>however, if this fic hits over 25 kudos, I'll work more on it</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Something New</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>PART THREE BABEEEY</p><p>from the perspective of Jayson Strauss</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Formal<strong> Letter of Resignation</strong><span><br/>
</span><span>~~~~~~~~~~</span><span><br/>
</span><em><span>      I am writing to announce that I shall be interviewed as an employee of the Illinois Institute of Higher Education. Working for the Wellberg Foundation and its partners has been a pleasure, yet I would like to pursue a new form of a career. If  my application is accepted, I shall begin work immediately. You’ll find I have all required documents for the transfer attached to this letter, and that they have been filed appropriately. </span></em><em><span><br/>
</span></em><em><span>         Yours Truly, </span></em><em><span><br/>
</span></em><span class="u"><em><span>X</span></em><em><span> Dr. Jayson M. Strauss<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</span></em></span><span>--------------------------------------<br/>
</span><span><br/>
</span><span>         I signed the letter and folded it into an envelope. I’ve already brought most of my stuff to Illinois from Indiana, where I used to live; of course I have a residence here, but that was paid for by the foundation. Now, since I was so adamantly convinced by Harold, I have requested a job here, at the Institute. <br/>
<br/>
Oh yeah, Harold!<br/>
<br/>
         Things have been… a little awkward between us since his small, little, stress-and-alcohol induced meltdown a few days ago. I doubt he remembers most of it- I still want to travel with him though. I’m thinking maybe Florence… would that be too far out? Also, could we even afford it? Who am I kidding, that man is as rich as he is attra-<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, Jayson, I thought you would’ve left already.”<br/>
<br/>
            Alice Kinnian was in the office I was using while working for the foundation, still in the half-packed disarray it was when I was preparing to move. I was so lost in thought I didn’t realize she was there!  “Ah, Alice! Well, you see, I’m staying.” upon saying this, I realized how… tired she looked. After the failed experiment, she’s been distant. Her cheerful disposition has been severely affected by Charlie leaving. Most of the comfort she receives is from the receptionist Lauren, (Not Linda- Harold doesn’t pay much attention to anyone, really; I need to bring that up to him) who works at the front desk. <br/>
<br/>
        “You’re....staying? Dr. Strauss, what did the foundation say? Professor Nemur’s not… not continuing the experiment, right?”<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
            “Not that I’m aware of, we would’ve been notified. I just wanted to apply for a job here, it’s nice! Speaking of Harold, how’s he holding up?” Miss Alice Kinnian isn’t the only one that’s been distant lately. Maybe Harry was uncomfortable with the thought that I had seen him break down like that. It’s in his nature- I also need to bring that up to him.<br/>
<br/>
</span></p><p>
  <span>      Alice replied, “Why don’t you go see him? He should be in his office today.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Disarray</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>stressed professor check</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>new character introduction !</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>        I didn’t think Harry would be in his office, he was supposed to instruct a class today. Was he still in his slump? I proceeded to walk down the hall to his room with the appropriate label,</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span> “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Professor H. E. Nemur” </span>
  </em>
  <span>on the front. Of course he’d have his full title on display outside his door. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>I believe the “E” stood for Elize, he told me once. </span><br/>
<br/>
<span>      At this point I don’t even knock- he knows it’s me. I open the door, and immediately my eyes are met with his; dark brown.  “I was just heading out, Jayson.” Harold straightened his tie, and sighed, looking at me. I tilted my head to look around him, and the office was…</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Not in the best condition. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>               Papers were nearly on every surface, either in folders, paperclipped together, or otherwise in stacks. It’s an orderly chaos.  “Uh, hey! What’s been going on here?” He opens the door more, and allows me inside. I closed it behind us. “I’ve been going over my hypothesis.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span><br/>
<br/>
<span>“‘Going over it’ might be an understatement, </span>
  <em>
    <span>professor,</span>
  </em>
  <span> this looks like you’re going through all of it.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span><br/>
<br/>
<span>“Because I am. All of these are papers either left by Gordon or otherwise from researchers involved.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>    That meant it also included my notes on the surgery. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
        Harold turns to arrange more stacks of papers, but I put a hand on his shoulder in a small attempt to ease him. “But...why, Harold? I mean, I didn’t even think we were getting funding, </span>
  <span>considering Wellberg dropped the experiment.” He turns to face me, raising an eyebrow, “We’re not.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>      Upon seeing my confused look, he continued, “There must have been something wrong; I don’t understand what though. That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I have to, Jay." <br/>
<br/>
      “Harold,” I said, half laughing, “We both know things didn’t turn out as planned, but look: we’re all trying to get back to normal for now. Do you… need anything?”<br/>
       <br/>
          He takes my hand off his shoulder, and holds it in his own. “I should be fine. I just need time to sort this out. I promise that when I finish arranging these, maybe we can go out for dinner or something?”<br/>
       <br/>
     I have to admit I turned a little red!<br/>
“That’d be great!”<br/>
<br/>
</span>
  <span>      We said our goodbyes, and turned to head back to the lab. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>And walking across the campus, who do I see but Ms. Mercedes, coming to the main building from the Mathematics wing.</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:O who's ms mercedes ! you'll find out soon !</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Everybody Likes You!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>yes lemon demon song</p><p>nemur nicotine arc</p><p>note - prof.peighton brown goes by they/them pronouns</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>From the perspective of Harold Nemur</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
  <span>As Jay left, I lit another cigarette.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I haven’t smoked in a while.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>        I have to figure out what happened. This was my life’s work- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Charlie</span>
  </em>
  <span> was my life’s work and now he’s gone. Hell, almost everything is gone. Not to mention Bertha-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow, shhhit-“ I hadn’t realized I burned myself on the cigarette...<br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least I still have Jayson. Through this stress he’s been there. I still can’t help having </span>
  <em>
    <span>some resentment </span>
  </em>
  <span>towards my ex-wife. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> Letting out a ‘huff,’ I put out the cigarette and went through some papers. In the middle of a stack, was a messy, handwritten note. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Charlie’s final address to the college and lab.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the bottom, there was a note.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>P.S. please tel prof Nemur not to be such a grouch when pepul laugh at him and he would have more frends.<br/><br/>      </span>
  </em>
  <span>   Well. This is interesting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course I have friends. There’s Jay, obviously, and Alice, although we’ve been distant lately-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> <br/></span>
  <span>        I can’t let people- ‘laugh’ at me. I’m better than this, and people should know it. People should learn respect, I’m one of the best in my field, I-<br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>I need a break.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe I’ll take a walk. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span> I put on my coat, extinguished the cigarette and nursed my slightly-scorched hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>      As I walked, I thought about where Jay and I could spend our evening; on our </span>
  <em>
    <span>date.</span>
  </em>
  <span> This would be our first one, and it had to be perfect. I wouldn’t settle for anything less than that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ll have to ask him when I see him. </span>
</p><p><span>“Professor Nemur.” It was one of my co-teachers, Peighton. I turned to face them, “Ah. Professor Brown. You need something?” I pulled out another cigarette, and lit it. “You know those are bad for you right?” they said, crossing their arms impatiently. <br/><br/></span>   </p><p>
  <span>“You know I don’t care, right?”<br/><br/></span>
</p><p><span>To this, they groaned, rolling their eyes. “Now why in the </span><em><span>Hell</span></em><span> weren’t you teaching your class today? I was told your project was over. Some people are worried about you, Nemur.” </span><br/><br/>     </p><p>
  <span>   I took a drag on the cigarette. “I still have to finalize some things. As you may know, these things are facetious in nature. Just let me do my work, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Their eyes studied me for a moment, then, taking a deep breath, Peighton walked off, shrugging. “Someday, Harold, you’ll learn not everything’s about you.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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